


The Witches Are Coming

by NeonTinkerbell



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Blood, Blood Magic, But Also Kinda Fluffy?, Dark, Established Relationship, F/F, Mild Horror, Murder Girlfriends, My Bloody Valentine - Freeform, Revenge is best served cold, Smut, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-20
Updated: 2019-10-20
Packaged: 2020-12-24 19:28:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,206
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21104780
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NeonTinkerbell/pseuds/NeonTinkerbell
Summary: “This is the third eternal truth of witches: they kill men who hurt women.”(Sady Doyle, Dead Blondes and Bad Mothers)Ginny Weasley and Hermione Granger get their bloody revenge, then they Get Some.





	The Witches Are Coming

**Author's Note:**

> I started writing this for the My Bloody Valentine fest but it got lost amongst my to-do list. See tags for warnings.
> 
> Massive, massive thank you to my Friend, Beta Reader and Editor [icarusinflight!!](/users/icarusinflight/) I never would have got this fic to its full potential without your help!

The flickering torches were the only source of illumination, but they did little to warm the cold cellar. Hermione stood at the edge of their light and watched as they cast long shadows over the scene in front of her. 

Ginny moved with the quiet practised precision Hermione had seen in the ballet shows her parents had taken her to when she was younger. She'd always found a deep love in watching the ballerina's flow, an appreciation in the way they could make their very bodies become art.

It used to bother her, that for all her the things she loved, all the academic pursuits she excelled at, that she couldn't bring it in herself to care at all about any of the traditional creative disciplines. It had been a quiet anxiety, something she tried not to let bother her — even if she was never truly successful at that — until the day that one of her tutors had pointed out the creativity she expressed in her essays about practical applications. She had found her creative outlet there. It might not be the same as a Monet painting, but when Hermione reworked the spells to do what she wanted, it felt like art to her. 

Still, it had become apparent in her research that the ritualistic blood magic required more than her own brand of creativity. Ginny had excelled, while she produced mediocre results. At first, this had sorely chafed against her academic competitiveness. She’d held onto the frustration at her own limitation right up until the first time she’d watched Ginny at work. It was like her very own front-row seat, watching the work of art come into being in front of her. She couldn’t help but feel anything but pride after that, for both her best friend’s skills and for what they were doing together. 

With one last flourish that sent dark droplets spattering across the floor and onto the wall, Ginny placed her scalpel back on its tray. The torch-light illuminated her face when she turned her head and Hermione couldn’t tell where her freckles ended and the blood began. Her brown eyes burned as brightly as the torches. An intensity Hermione had grown to love.

“You’ve outdone yourself, Gin.”

Ginny’s face flushed with pleasure and the white of her smile shone against the dark.

“I’ve waited a long time for this one," Ginny turned back to admire her handiwork, "I wanted everything to be perfect.”

Hermione smiled in return. “Well, I’m sure he appreciates the effort.”

There was no reply from their guest.

A simple petrificus totalus kept their victims immobile while they worked. It had been at Ginny’s insistence that tonight his head was to remain free. _Make sure he can't make a noise, _Ginny had said, _but leave his head free. I want to see him try._ There was an intensity to her words, a ferocity that Hermione hadn't seen before, and it awed her. She understood though. Tonight was special and she had modified the spell to fulfil Ginny’s request. If she was honest with herself, watching had been both incredibly gratifying and sent a hot flush of arousal to her very core.

Lucius Malfoy had thrashed his head about as Ginny had used him for her canvas until the ends of his long blond locks were completely soaked in his blood. Now, his head hung limp, the will to fight drawn out of him like the blood from his veins. Perhaps he believed the worst was over, perhaps he no longer cared.

Hermione stepped forward, shoulder to shoulder with Ginny and admired her partner’s work. Each runic inscription was carved perfectly and linked unbroken by their binding circle. Lucius’s skinny chest barely contained the entire thing but Ginny’s handiwork was exceptional, and Hermione noted with interest that she had even managed to run the slice of a rune straight through one of his nipples.

“Are you ready?”

“Almost, I want to savour this.” Hermione watched as Ginny's eyes roved over Lucius once more. Seemingly pleased, Ginny turned towards her, leaning her neck downwards to steal a kiss. Her lips were chapped from Quidditch practises but to Hermione they were heaven. She could taste the coppery tang on them and when Ginny pulled away Hermione sighed at the loss.

Hermione considered the strength of her spell work that would keep them uninterrupted. “Alright, but don’t take too long.”

Ginny bit her lip and grinned. “Cut his tongue loose, he and I need to have a little chat.”

Hermione did so with a wave of her hand and took a step back. Ginny stepped forward, placing her hands on the seated man's silk pyjama knees.

“Hello, Lucy.”

“You… Bitch…” Was all Lucius managed to grunt, “you'll pay… for this.”

“No, I don’t think I will,” Ginny replied cocking her head, “you know, I never got to thank you for introducing me to Tom. He showed me some truly wonderful things.”

Lucius recoiled as if slapped.

“I was so lonely during my first year. Tom became my best friend, I poured my secrets and my soul out to him and he fed on them like a leech. But eventually, he started to show me things too. He showed me his secrets and began to pour a little of his soul back into me.”

“You should be dead!” Lucius spat, jerking weakly against his bonds.

“Yes,” Ginny replied with a cold smile, “I should be... but I’m not. How unlucky for you.” She reached up and grasped Lucius’s chin. “And now you're going to pay the price.”

“I… The Wizengamot…”

His already broken voice faltered. Ginny’s expression twisted in fury at the mention of his sham of a trial. The bastard had peddled the same lies as he had at the end of the last war, claiming Voldemort had threatened his family. He sold out every Death Eater he knew just to stay out of Azkaban and the Wizengamot had lapped it up. Hermione found herself seething at the memory. The Wizengamot wouldn't be of any help to him now and judging by the look on his face Lucius knew it too.

“You should have pleaded guilty.” He flinched at the chilling hiss of Ginny’s words. “You might have even lived longer.”

Ginny stood and the presence of her fury ran cold, “Luna told me what you did to her here,” she glanced around the stone cellar, “it's fitting.” 

Lucius tried to look away but Ginny reached forward and grabbed a chunk of his hair. She yanked on it and Lucius shrieked in pain. Ginny did not relent and used her hold to force him to meet her eyes. ”I want you to know,” she said calmly, “that Luna never let what happened to her here break her. She’s far stronger than you, and a far better witch than you ever were.”

She leaned in and Hermione barely caught her next words, ”and so am I.”

When Ginny returned to her side the look she gave Hermione was of calm resolution.

“Ready?”

Hermione nodded. She and Ginny took off their jumpers. With a steady hand, Hermione took a clean scalpel and shallowly carved the convergence rune on Ginny’s chest, just above her heart. Slicing the palm of her wand hand, she waited for the blood to pool, then smeared it across the rune. A rush of heat coursed through her hand and tingled up her arm.

Ginny repeated the action on her. With Ginny’s palm on her chest, Hermione’s heart skipped a beat at the mingling of their blood and magic. They began to chant, drawing long-forgotten glyphs and runes in the air with their wands.

At first, nothing happened, and then Lucius began to cough, his body heaving as he tried to suck in air.

Tendrils of translucent purple essence rose from the wounds carved in his body until it poured in a steady stream towards them. The spells holding Lucius collapsed and he thrashed against the bonds that kept him imprisoned to the chair. 

A heavy-duty cable tie has a tensile strength of 175 lbs. With each of his limbs restrained to the legs of the chair, breaking them would be an impossible task. Pureblood Wizards thought Muggles and anything they created was primitive and useless. It would always be their downfall.

The essence split in front of them, curling towards the runes on their chests. Hermione’s breath hitched and she closed her eyes in anticipation. A kaleidoscope of magic exploded behind her eyes at its touch. She staggered, her chest bursting with the waves of magic pouring into it. Its heat surged through her veins. Hermione could feel it melding with her. She was a conduit, a lightning rod, filled to the brim with power.

A pathetic, hacking scream managed to force itself from Lucius’s throat. His magic ripped from within him, and without it, his body collapsed in on itself. His skin withered, cracked and grew taut across his skeletal remains as the last of his magical essence flowed into their bodies.

Hermione floated on the ecstasy of the rituals afterglow. The rush of magic and power left her feeling lightheaded and giddy. When she finally opened her eyes she was met with the familiar sight of Ginny’s eyes, her iris’s glowing an ethereal purple from the energy of the ritual. The basement was lit up as if the sun itself was shining in it.

She reached out and caressed Ginny's cheek with her palm. Ginny grabbed Hermione’s belt loops and yanked her into a searing kiss that sent sparks of magic tingling through her. Ginny’s tongue swept into her mouth, brushing against hers and a sharp flare of euphoria burst on her lips like a static shock. She threw her arms over Ginny’s shoulders and pulled her in closer, pressing their bodies together.

When she opened her eyes again the light was fading and she could see Ginny’s dilated pupils inside the purple glow.

“We should start packing up,” Hermione whispered, though she didn’t want to break the embrace, ”I’m not sure how much longer the stasis spell will hold upstairs.”

Ginny pouted. “I still think we should do that little blonde shit, he almost killed Ron!”

“I know. But Harry always gets in a snit when we interfere with his pet projects. He was unbearable after they found what we had done to Mulciber.” Hermione rolled her eyes. ”Harry thinks he can get him back on the straight and narrow and if he can’t… We can pay him a visit.”

Ginny did not look mollified. She dropped her hands with a huff and began collecting up her tools and dropping them back into their duffle bag. Hermione cut the cable ties from around the corpse’s arms and legs, placing those back in the bag too. They had to be careful not to leave anything identifiable for the Aurors to find. Finally, they stood at the doorway and cast their cleaning charms, removing all traces of their presence except for the body and the blood.

Hermione turned to leave but a hand on her arm stopped her.

“One last detail,” Ginny said, her eyes glinting.

She waved her wand and murmuring her incantation. The stone floor shook, and around the chair, they began to crack. Thin branches shot up from between the cracks, wrapping themselves around Lucius’s corpse and then snapped tight, driving their spiked thorns into the withered flesh.

Hermione frowned and glanced at Ginny who returned the look with a faux innocent shrug. Hermione made a soft noise of disapproval before turning to the stairs.

The house was deadly silent. Narcissa and Draco still under the thrall of magical sleep upstairs. They slipped out into the night and the darkness swallowed them up. Through the back gate and the carefully crafted hole in the wards, the fog rose up from the moors to meet them.

Hermione offered Ginny her arm. “Ready?”

“Oh, I thought it was your turn to be side-alonged.” Ginny gave her a mock glare.

Of course Ginny would choose _now _to bring this up. “I’ll make it up to you,” Hermione replied, rolling her eyes.

“Oh you will, will you?”

“Yes! As soon as we get home. Which I want to do quickly because it’s freezing out here and we still have one more stop to make!”

“I’ll hold you to that.” Ginny wrapped her arm through hers and shot her a wicked smirk.

The twisting hose-pipe whirl of apparition engulfed them and spat them back out with a soft pop. The forest seemed to hold its breath at their sudden arrival, waiting to see if they were expected or trespassers. The stillness hung between the tall oaks until the sound of the nocturnal creatures returning to their routines crept back in. 

“Lumos.”

It didn’t take Ginny long to locate their stash while Hermione conjured a brazier. After a strong warming charm, she began shedding her blood-stained clothes and tossed them in. Ginny did the same and threw the duffle bag in on top. From the smaller bag, Ginny removed four candles and a large potion bottle which she poured over the pile. They lit the candles and stood skyclad at opposite sides of the brazier.

“Ready?”

Ginny nodded.

A stream of fire burst from the tip of Hermione’s wand igniting the clothing in the brazier. With a swish of wands, two powerful shield charms were layered over it. The flames licked silently at the contents until they reached the potion. A blinding flash lit the clearing and the blowback from the silent explosion jarred against her magic. When her vision returned, all that was left inside the bubble was ash and burnt soil. Hermione cancelled the bubble with a flick of her hand. The warming charm was starting to wear off, exposing her naked body to the chilly night and she grit her teeth to stop them from chattering. 

“Poor thing,” Ginny said sweetly, appearing out of the dark at her side, “let’s get you home.” Before she could protest, Ginny latched onto her arm and Apparated them. 

Apparition was much smoother than it used to be for them, but Hermione still stumbled slightly as they popped back into existence in the middle of their ensuite. The shelves of bubble-bath and scented candles rattled at the sudden displacement of air but fortunately, only the tube of toothpaste fell off the counter, landing with a thunk on the tiles. 

Ginny dropped her wand and the bag of candles on the bathroom counter and turned on the shower. All thoughts of admonishment disappeared at the prospect of a steamy shower. Feeling needy and cold she reached out, cold fingers seeking the warmth of Ginny’s body. She ignored Ginny’s squeal at her touch and pulled Ginny into the circle of her arms. Ginny squirmed for a moment, before relaxing into the hold, and Hermione happily soaked up the warmth, like Crookshanks basking in a sunbeam.

“Hey!” Ginny tried to pull away, but Hermione wrapped her arms around her tighter, refusing to relinquish her hold. “Let go! The showers almost ready, you can get warm in there!” Ginny laughed.

“But you’re warm nowww,” Hermione complained. Still attached like a limpet, she allowed her wand to be tugged out of her hand and herself to be pulled into the glorious warmth of the steaming water. She didn’t let go until she felt a soapy loofah start scrubbing its way up her back. She looked up to gaze at Ginny’s grin.

“Turn around.”

Hermione did as she was instructed. She closed her eyes relaxed into the ministrations and let her lover wash away the grime and blood. Gentle hands tugged at her hair tie until her thick bushy curls sprang loose and pooled around her head. 

“Face me.”

She did so without hesitation. Her eyes still closed, she felt Ginny guide her back under the spray, gently working her hands into Hermione’s hair. Once soaked, her lover lathered it with shampoo, massaging it through and onto her scalp. It was pure bliss. Her hair was rinsed, conditioned, rinsed again and then a face cloth softly wiped away the water from her face. Hermione opened her eyes.

“Feeling better?” Ginny asked, her eyes alight with the force of her smile.

She was. The tension had eased out of her shoulders and the warmth had spread through her skin into her chest and was making its way downward. Hermione purred her response, “much better.”

“Do you want to wash me?” 

She nodded and reached for the loofah, but Ginny lifted it away.

“I didn’t hear you?”

“May I please wash you?” Hermione pouted, offering up a pleading look.

Satisfied, Ginny handed her the loofah and she set about her task. Rather than ordering her, Hermione moved around her lover's body with care. It didn’t take long for her to thoroughly pamper Ginny in return. When she was finished and returned the showerhead to its cradle, she leaned up and kissed Ginny. 

The taller woman parted her lips and let Hermione slip her tongue through to glide against her own. She savoured the taste and sensation. Their lips parted with a soft wet smack and she opened her eyes to find Ginny grinning at her.

“You still owe me.”

“What?” Hermione exclaimed. “You side-alonged me back home, we’re even!”

Ginny waved her hand dismissively. “Doesn’t count, it was a shorter trip,” she leaned in conspiratorially, “besides, you’ll enjoy it.”

Hermione laughed. “I suppose I might,” she raised her eyebrows at Ginny, “what did you have in mind.”

“I want you to eat me out.”

“Mmmm, alright,” Hermione smirked, “but the shower goes on my back this time, I’m not getting a face-full of water again.”

“Deal.”

She reached up and cradled Ginny's face, kissing and nipping her lips and eliciting a groan of pleasure. Sliding her hands down Ginny’s body she followed them with kisses, down her neck, over her chest, pausing to take a dark pink nipple in her mouth. Rolling it with her tongue and giving gentle nip, she felt more than heard the sudden exhale of air from Ginny’s lungs. The rich sweet smell of their plum soap still clung to her skin and Hermione inhaled deeply. Switching sides so as not to leave her other breast unloved, Hermione felt her lover's hands creep up her sides. Ginny’s short nails grazed against her skin, the sensations tingling sharply and spiking towards her centre. Moving down, trailing kisses over her Quidditch toned midriff, Hermione let her hands drop. She teased her thumbs down the inside curve of Ginny’s thighs towards her centre. Ginny's fingers shifted and dug in at the new sensation, racking her up back. Hermione moaned against her skin, nipping and sucking in return. Her hands slid back to Ginny's hips and she traced her fingers over the smattering of tawny freckles along the ridge of Ginny’s muscles. They were so pretty, one of Hermione’s favourite parts, and she just loved to worship them. The warm umber of her skin richly contrasted against Ginny’s pale, freckled form like a ship crossing a moon-lit ocean. 

“God, you’re so gorgeous.”

Ginny’s mumbled response was lost under the steady crackle of water hitting her skin. She placed a kiss inside her thigh. Running her hand up Ginny's leg then combing her fingers through her downy ginger pubes, she ground her hand against her mons and Ginny’s hips jerked forward at the pressure. She looked up to meet Ginny’s bright brown eyes aflame with desire.

“Do you like that?”

Her teasing had obviously had the desired effect. Cherry lips disappeared under the bite of white teeth and Ginny’s voice was rough and deep and filled with playful urgent need.

“Oh Merlin, will you shut up and fuck me?”

Ginny’s hands slid deeply into her hair, grabbing fistfuls against her scalp. Hermione sunk into the sharp pressure. Firmly, her head was guided between Ginny’s thighs. Her nose bumped first against Ginny’s wetness and the smell sparked in her chest. Hot, wet and hers for the taking. She tilted up, burying her tongue into her lover. Lapping deeply at the offered musky folds, she reached up grabbing Ginny’s tight arse and pulled her closer. Hermione worked her way up until she was tonguing and sucking at Ginny’s clit, pulling it gently into her mouth and let it go with a smack of her lips. She felt her pussy throb and she gulped a breath of air before diving back in. Ginny shuddered and her hips thrust forward, pulling her hair tighter.

Hermione moved one hand from the hold on her thighs, reaching around and tracing a finger back down the middle of Ginny’s cheeks until she reached her entrance. 

“Fuck yes, fuck me,” Ginny hissed through a gasp of air. Anything more she might have said was lost into a moan when Hermione thrust upwards. Velvety wetness parted like the pages of a book, welcoming her fingers to trace along its spine. She crooked her finger rhythmically against Ginny’s erratic thrusts. Hermione’s legs clenched, searching for friction to sate her own need. The thought of moving her other hand flashed, but lost out to the desire to concentrate on her lovers need.

Feeling Ginny’s legs start to tremble, she sucked in a deep breath and picked up her pace. Ginny’s grip on her hair was urgent, pulling Hermione closer as Ginny raced towards her climax. Walls tightened around her fingers and Ginny jerked onto her tip-toes as her release crashed over her. Her cry echoed off the tiles and sent a flood of warmth through Hermione. She continued to lap lazily until Ginny released her death grip on her curls and let her sink back, the shower still spraying against the back of her head.

Hermione stood on wobbly legs and Ginny steadied her, arms reaching around and pulling her in. Pressing a kiss on Ginny’s lips she let her tongue dart forward to share the taste that lingered there. Ginny hummed into her mouth, their tongues swirled then Ginny's teeth were nipping at her bottom lip. There was a gentle tug as Ginny pulled away letting Hermione’s lip slide between her teeth.

“You always taste so good.” Hermione licked her lips. Her hands rested on the small of Ginny’s back, holding her close. 

“Thanks.” Despite already being pink from the heat Ginny’s cheeks managed to flush even further. She grinned and the light in her eyes danced. Ginny leaned forward, pressing her forehead into hers. “You’re so fucking sexy.”

She couldn’t help the smile that broke over her face. She was so lucky to have this relationship. Ginny made her feel like a Goddess. The weight of their afterglow settled heavy in her limbs and she fought back a yawn. Ginny reached behind her and the water shut off with a dull thunk. “Bed?” she asked softly. Hermione nodded her response. 

Hermione brushed her teeth while Ginny sat on the loo. Her well-worn nightshirt was waiting for her on the bed, exactly where she had tossed this morning. She pulled it over her head and crawled under the covers. It didn’t take long for Ginny to join her, and she leaned over and pressed a kiss to Hermione’s cheek.

“In the mood for me to return the favour?”

“Mmmm, no, just cuddle me please,” Hermione replied. Ginny shuffled down the bed, laid her arm across the pillows and Hermione gladly curled into the crook of her shoulder. The lights clicked out and she felt Ginny’s arms reach around her. Hermione sighed contentedly.

Sleep should have claimed her quickly, but a nagging question continued to bounce around her mind. 

“Why did you conjure those branches?”

“What?” Ginny mumbled sleepy and she felt her swallow and shift towards her. Hermione looked up to meet her eyes in the dark of their room.

“The branches, that’s the second time you’ve done that.”

Ginny groaned softly. She was silent for a moment before she spoke. “You told me all good serial killers have a trademark.”

“They have it because they want people to know who they are, I’d like not to spend the rest of my life in Azkaban.” Hermione pushed herself up frowning.

“I don’t want to get caught either,” Ginny replied rubbing a hand over her face, “but someday I think I’d like people to know it was us. To know we were the ones who were willing to take a stand. To admit that even though we won the war, nothing really changed. That we refused to be complacent.” 

Hermione chewed the inside of her lip. “I think I would prefer to be remembered for different reasons.”

“Do you want me to stop?” Ginny looked over, meeting her gaze with a concerned expression.

“No… that is why we’re doing this.” Hermione let out a soft sigh. “No reason to be ashamed of being remembered for wanting a better future. I appreciate you telling me.”

Ginny smiled and Hermione leaned down for a kiss.

“Love you.”

“Love you too,” came the rumbled replied as Hermione settled back down in her arms.

No more questions plagued her and she slept soundly in her lover's arms.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for checking out my work, hopefully, you enjoyed the read! I love getting feedback from my readers so drop me a comment or leave a kudos if you enjoyed it!


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